


Bitter Heartbeat

by ArchaicVampire



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: M/M, help I don’t know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16594613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchaicVampire/pseuds/ArchaicVampire
Summary: Kaito Shion lives a life of unwanted luxury. Gakupo Kamui lives a life of humble solitude. Neither truly have a place to belong.Until they meet each other.Everything could have been perfect were they alone, but instead, they are hunted at every turn, with Kaito’s father wanting nothing more than to see his son return to him and to see Gakupo dead.Will they gain the happiness they’ve both dreamed of, or will their romance have a bitter end?





	Bitter Heartbeat

Running his hand along the branch of a tree, its branches furled into a graceful mess of thorns with leaves hanging by threads, a young merchant walked along a rustic stone road, his sandals wobbling over the jutting rocks. He hummed quietly to himself a tune of decades past as he took in the natural beauty of the village, birds mocking his tone. Or perhaps they were singing along, as they, the animals they were, were free to do. How the merchant yearned to become one of them, let himself melt into his surroundings with the gentle melody of the springtime. Perhaps if he were wealthy, he could find the time to enjoy such things. But… no, he thought, resigned to his circumstances. He must continue his work.  
Not too far from the merchant sat a noble’s son, perched on a wall beside the river that ran through the town. Mystically blue hair fell in vibrant locks around his face. A crumpled piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand, he tossed it into the river with disdain, watching it become whisked away by the current. He abandoned the river with a grimace, once again unsatisfied by his work. He once again found his poetry without flow and without rhythm, the qualities befitting of someone of his status. Why must he be burdened with the role of nobility? Kicking a pebble aside, he walked onward blindly, arrogance in his stride. Only when he crashed into the merchant and stumbled backwards was he snapped from his thoughts, dumbfounded and helpless.  
A calloused, strong, yet gentle hand clasped the noble’s, catching him only a few inches from the ground. Using the other as leverage, the noble pulled himself to his feet, blinking in confusion at the face that greeted him. It was angular and symmetrical, beautiful in every sense of the word. Unusually purple hair fell in long strands around his shoulders, the rest tied up in a ponytail. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice melodic and soft.  
In his own, bolder and louder voice, the noble replied, “Fine,” brushing a lock of blue hair from his face. “I… suppose I must thank you. What is your name, stranger?”  
“Gakupo Kamui. I am but a humble merchant,” he introduced with a slight bow.  
Kamui? The son of Gakuto Kamui, no doubt. The noble knew he was a merchant as well, but on the side, he happened to be a famous musician. Perhaps that was where Gakupo got his voice from.  
Without being asked, the noble divulged his name. “My name is Kaito Shion, but I suppose you already knew that.” Satisfied with a nod from Gakupo, Kaito continued, “Then you wouldn’t mind escorting me back to my home, correct?”  
“Not at all. Lead the way, Kai—”  
Kaito had already grabbed Gakupo by the wrist, pulling him along the stone road to god knows where. They crossed a steep bridge, Kaito nearly tripping over his own feet on the way down. The path lead into the outer parts of the village, away from the house where Kaito and his father resided. Nightfall growing near, the way was lighted by lanterns, like miniature suns harnessed by the hands of man, hanging from posts.  
“Shion, your house is that way,” Gakupo stated the obvious.  
“You didn’t really think I wanted to go there, did you? It’s been lonely, I thought… I-If I had someone to be with, then…”  
“Shio—Kaito, your father could have my head for this.”  
“I promise I won’t let him,” the noble insisted, smirking mischievously.  
He led Gakupo past the houses, past the shops, to a road sparsely lit by lantern light. This part of the city, detached from the liveliness of humans, was so pure, so… beautiful. It was like nothing Kaito had ever seen. Fireflies danced like a sky full of stars, reflecting as golden flecks in the noble’s eyes.  
Kaito’s eyes shone with excitement as he ran, faster and faster, his heart rate speeding up. This freedom, this rush of adrenaline—was this truly what being free from the rigid social structure was like? He wanted to keep going, to never stop running, without boundaries, without expectations. His father could find another heir. After all, what was Kaito even worth? His father certainly wouldn’t miss him.  
This stark change in emotion brought Kaito to a halt. He found himself in a field, white flowers peeking out of the grass. He fell to his knees, prepared to stay there and let nature claim him. Only when he felt the gentle hand rest on his shoulder did he perk his head up, eyes red and face stained by tears.  
Without warning, he fell into the merchant’s arms, his hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. He could feel the merchant’s arms around him, a protective barrier. Gakupo needed no explanation, no reason to lend his aid. He simply held on to Kaito, letting the noble use his shirt to dry his tears.  
What am I doing? Kaito questioned, pulling away from Gakupo’s embrace. The merchant stumbled backwards, clearly shocked by the sudden gesture.  
“I should go,” Kaito admitted, stepping further away from Gakupo.  
“I… Of course. Should I—”  
“No. No, I should return alone.” Kaito turned away from the merchant, his hands shaking in tight fists. His pace quickened into a run as he fled from Gakupo, eyes blinded by tears. His feet stumbled over the stone pathway. For the second time that day, Kaito ran straight into someone, crashing to the ground. His back hit the hard, bumpy stones, and he let out a groan of pain.  
“Kaito? What are you doing outside?” A strong hand grabbed his forearm and heaved him to his feet. Kaito found himself staring into a pair of chartreuse eyes framed by salmon-colored hair. Yuuma, he realized, noticing his father’s prized warrior.  
“Y-Yuuma? B-but I…” Kaito stammered, only to find his collar grabbed by the soldier, who had begun dragging him along the path.  
“Don’t play dumb, princeling. I saw you talking to that Kamui man earlier. Did he try to kidnap you? I swear, I’ll—”  
“N-No, it wasn’t anything of the sort! It was more of the opposite, really… Hey! Watch it!” Kaito yelped, being dragged painfully over the bridge.  
“Regardless, your father won’t be happy. Come, we don’t have any time to lose.”

The ceiling of Kaito’s room was bland, clean, and emotionless. Everything a noble should find within himself. A hand reached up towards it, but flopped back onto the bed, dejected. He barely had any recollection of the previous night, only the image of Gakupo Kamui’s face, printed on his mind. Gakupo. Hadn’t Yuuma said something about… No… He couldn’t have, Kaito thought, throwing the blankets off of him. Yuuma hadn’t bothered to help him change, so he was already dressed enough. He bolted down the stairs and out into the courtyard, racing across the stone path that ran through the garden straight to the throne room of sorts, where his father would surely be.  
“Father!” he gasped, throwing open the doors. But the sight that awaited him made his face turn pale as he clasped his hands over his mouth, stifling a scream.  
By his mess of purple hair, two soldiers held up the young merchant, bruised, torn, and battered. He was pulled to his feet, and a second later, kicked towards Kaito, landing with a painful thump on the floor.  
Ripping the sword from a guard’s hand, Kaito rushed over to Gakupo, severing the rope that bound his hands together. He discarded the sword and leaned forward to cradle Gakupo in his arms, holding back a barrage of tears. Gakupo made no protest, just a small groan of pain and a worried expression of recognition. From the ranks of soldiers, Kaito could feel a pair of chartreuse eyes glare at him with contempt.  
“Kaito!” his father bellowed, rising from his chair. “Have no affiliation with that criminal! You have no idea of the things he’s done.”  
“He is nothing of the sort! Father, cease this mindless torture! Haven’t you done enough already?” Kaito pleaded, pulling the merchant closer to his chest. Gakupo’s hair laced around his fingers, falling in soft, delicate strands around his arm.  
Kaito had only just reunited with the merchant when he was brutally wrenched away from him and pulled to his feet, screaming and protesting.  
“Escort the prisoner to the dungeons, and escort my son to his room,” Kaito’s father commanded. Kaito’s heels scraped against the floor as he kicked at the guards, yelling furiously.  
Kaito was roughly tossed into his room, and his futile attempts to pound at the door yielded no reward. He slumped against it, sobbing and crying out names. Gakupo. Yuuma. Father. Pressing his back to the wall, the noble gazed up at a beautiful painting on the wall.  
The subject of the portrait bore a striking resemblance to him, vibrant blue hair framing his face, even more lustrous indigo eyes reflected in the katana he held. Kaito reached up to touch his own hair with curiosity, wondering where the color came from. He’d never met his mother, and his father’s hair was jet black. There were legends about people like him, but… they were all just fairytales, nothing more.  
Fueled with even more of a burning desire to escape his prison, he placed a hand on the handle of the door. He concentrated on the image of the handle falling loose, but as his desire grew, the image turned to that of the door being ripped from its hinges. In a blinding flash of blue light, Kaito was knocked backwards as the door flew open. He scrambled to his feet and raced out, bare feet pounding against the wooden floor of the hallway.  
As quietly and as quickly as he could, Kaito stepped down the cold, stone stairs to the dungeon. Grabbing the keys from where they hung on the wall, his pace picked up as he ran down the row of cells. He forcefully blocked the screams of peril out, and scanned the place, looking for a sign of anything purple. There, he realized, arriving at the last cell at the end of the corridor.  
Unlocking the door, he threw it open, and was immediately enveloped in Gakupo’s arms. He stumbled back, but regained his balance, hugging the other tightly. Their lips connected in a soft kiss, and they sunk to the floor, locked in their embrace. Distracted with each other, they barely heard the clicking of footsteps down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> The formatting is a bit off, I kept switching between my phone and a computer, so I apologize if the indents inconsistent!  
> aaaaadksjdkdhdjdhd  
> Anyways, lemme know what you think of this! Should I continue it? What would you like to see if I do?  
> I’m also planning on adding some other characters, so look forward to that!  
> See ya!


End file.
